


Gemini

by LaGemini



Series: Mycroft being genius [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Anthea (Sherlock), BAMF Mycroft Holmes, Canon-Typical Violence, Genius Mycroft Holmes, Hostage Situations, Mycroft Holmes IS the British Government, Sherlock Being a Good Brother, Terrorists, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaGemini/pseuds/LaGemini
Summary: Inspired by When I Look in the Mirror I See Double, written by etothepii.Mycroft and 'Anthea' are a twin. But when did Holmes do anything normal?They are not normal twin, being essentially one person with two body. They maintained facades of being respective entities to the world, except to their family. But when the Whitehall was attacked and with Mycroft and Anthea being held hostage, that oddity might come in handy.Adding Sherlock being a concerned brother, terrorists won't stand a chance.
Relationships: Anthea & Mycroft Holmes, Anthea & Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: Mycroft being genius [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827256
Comments: 6
Kudos: 207
Collections: Sherlock (BBC)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [When I Look in the Mirror I See Double](https://archiveofourown.org/works/175016) by [etothepii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etothepii/pseuds/etothepii). 



> I was absolutely fascinated by the portrayal of Mycroft and Anthea being one person in When I look in the Mirror I See Double.  
> This is my attempt at using that concept during hostage situation. I hope you enjoy!

John was changing channels without actually seeing it, when an urgent report splashed on every channels. As soon as he saw what it is about, he shouted, “Sherlock!”

Sherlock, who were staving off his boredom with new tobacco ash, ran into the room at the alarm in John’s voice. He wished it would be a good puzzle to get rid of his boredom, but as soon as he saw the news, his inside went cold. The screen was showing smoking Whitehall and announcements about terrorists.

“Isn’t Mycroft…?” John couldn’t finish the sentence, getting irrational feeling that it might be proven true if he says it out loud. He turned to look at Sherlock when there was no answer, but he didn’t ask again. Sherlock’s white face was answer enough.

After staring at the screen for whole minute without even a blink, Sherlock snatched his coat and scarf, dashing out. John was only a step behind him.

At the back of the taxi, Sherlock was constantly trying to call someone without success. “Are you calling Mycroft?” John asked.

“Of course not, John. Mycroft would have called or texted if he could. He’s not in the position to use the phone right now. I’m calling Lestrade.” Sherlock answered, distracted.

“He must be frantic as well with the situation. It’s Whitehall.” John said.

“I know,” Sherlock said absently without exasperated tone or even an eye roll, which is making John even more concerned about the situation. “And that’s why I need to know who’s managing the situation.” Sherlock was viciously stabbing the keys now, and John wisely decided to stop asking.

And the taxi was stopped a few streets away from the Whitehall by the roadblock. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Anderson who were controlling that particular road.

“What are you doing here, freak?” Anderson asked with irritation.

“I don’t have time to deal with your idiocy now, Anderson. Call Lestrade and let us through.” Sherlock answered dismissingly.

John facepalmed.

“You may want to think it otherwise, freak, but you are a civilian. What made you think you could go in-” Anderson started, seething, but Sherlock cut him off.

“As I said, I don’t have time. Ask Lestrade who does he think will be best at predicting Mycroft’s behavior. _Now_.” Sherlock snapped, and Anderson was sensible enough to radio Lestrade.

_“Lestrade. What is it, Anderson?”_

“Sir, Sherlock is here. He’s insisting he has to go through because he is best at predicting someone named Mycroft?” Anderson didn’t know who that is or what that means, but he had enough of an experience to get a feeling that Sherlock will get what he wants. Again.

And after a short pause, Lestrade confirmed that feeling. _“Let them through.”_

Sherlock smiled sweetly at Anderson and ducked beneath the police line. John shot a slightly apologizing smile to Anderson and followed him.

The task force setting up near the Whitehall was buzzing with activities. Sherlock and John stood out among all the uniformed soldiers, armed SWAT teams and vested police officers. There are suited individuals that looked like agents from secret service as well. That’s probably how Greg found them so easily amid of this commotion, John thought. He was wearing a jumper. A burgundy one.

“Sherlock. You said something about Mycroft. Do you know something?” Lestrade asked in stressed-out voice. The situation is too dire and he doesn’t have time to worry about Sherlock’s unpredictability.

Before Sherlock could answer, someone approached them. “Detective Inspector, who are they? I thought the police was controlling the roadblocks?” She didn’t even spare Sherlock and John a glance, and her gaze was sharp enough to cut Greg in two. Greg was sure he would be seriously reprimanded if he couldn’t give any good reason.

“Lieutenant General Evans, this is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, the consultants of Scotland yard-,” Greg started, and Lieutenant General’s eyes snapped towards Sherlock and John at the name. John automatically fell back to military stance and saluted at her. He knew who she was even before Greg answered her. She is renowned throughout the whole army. She saluted back, but her gaze was fixed on Sherlock.

“Sherlock Holmes, brother of Mycroft Holmes?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am. And I am confident to say that I am better at predicting my brother’s behavior than anybody else.” Sherlock answered, and John was eternally thankful at heavens and above that Sherlock is being polite right now. Miraculously.

She narrowed her eyes for a second, but she soon nodded decisively. “What do you suggest, Mr. Holmes?”

John startled at Lieutenant General’s easy acceptance, even though he was rigidly maintaining the military stance. Higher ups are not exactly known for being open for suggestions, especially if the suggestion was from nobody important to them. He couldn’t help but admire her open-mindedness.

“Was there a contact from the terrorists?” Sherlock answered right away. “Is there a way to retrieve a hostage? At least one?”

“If you are suggesting retrieving Mycroft, Mr. Holmes,” Lieutenant General started, and she must be well acquainted with Mycroft to call him by his name at this situation, John thought, but Sherlock cut her off. John fervently hoped that the Lieutenant General doesn’t take offence.

“No, terrorists won’t let go of someone wrapped in expensive three-piece suit, even if they don’t know who Mycroft is. We need Anthea.” Sherlock declared.

Greg and John stared at Sherlock as if he was out of his mind, but the Lieutenant General merely quirked her eyebrow. “May I ask why?”

Sherlock ignored Lestrade and John’s gaze. He’s just thankful that meaningless arguments aren’t needed. The Lieutenant General must have volunteered due to Mycroft, small part of his brain deduced, but ignored it. It’s not important now.

“There’s a way for Mycroft and Anthea to communicate without using a cell phone, and it won’t be detected by terrorists. And even though they won’t release someone looking as important as Mycroft, they might let go someone who seems to be a simple PA.”

Lieutenant General stared at Sherlock piercingly. “Are you sure that they could communicate without additional risk on Mycroft?”

“Yes, ma’am. They have a prototype communication device from the secret service.” Sherlock withheld the gaze without difficulty. It was slightly different from the truth, but it’s true that they could communicate. And he never had any qualms at lying.

Greg and John, however, noticed that Sherlock was not telling the whole truth from their long acquaintance with Sherlock. But they also trust Sherlock enough not to bring it up now and make the Lieutenant General to question Sherlock’s words.

Lieutenant General nodded at Sherlock’s words. “I will see what I can do. I heard enough about you, Mr. Holmes. Detective Inspector, make sure Mr. Holmes does not act alone.” With that, Lieutenant General went back to the temporary headquarter to manage the situation.

Greg also went back to managing police forces sending a piercing gaze at Sherlock, looking around to find someone to babysit them.

John turned to Sherlock with narrowed eyes. “You are not telling everything.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault that you couldn’t observe, John.” It was Sherlock’s usual quip, but John could tell something was off. He couldn’t tell what is it or how he knew, but he’s sure that Sherlock actually was hiding something,

Sherlock noticed John’s unconvinced gaze and sighed. “Not now, John. It’s not important now.”

“So you will tell me later?” John checked. He fell for that once, before.

Sherlock hesitated. “It’s not my secret to tell.” He answered honestly. According to his past experiences with John, it was often the best strategy.

Predictably, John softened at that. “All right. Let’s focus on Mycroft, then.”

They were waiting at the corner with an officer watching them – Lestrade also had no faith in them staying put, Sherlock rolled his eyes – and watching the situation.

John nudged Sherlock. “We didn’t actually ask about the current situation. We know Mycroft and Anthea is held hostage. Do you know anything more?” He was damn sure Sherlock noticed plenty more.

Sherlock gave an impatient sigh, but his eyes were roving over the scene constantly. “Of course, John. The terrorists didn’t hold the whole Whitehall as a hostage. That would have required too many manpower, meaning higher chances of getting noticed. They are holding only a part of it, probably targeting an important meeting and the people in and near that meeting room. Obviously, Mycroft and Anthea were included. I don’t think there will be more than 50 hostages in there. Probably less than 30. Which means there won’t be more than 10 terrorists, but also means they have a specific target in mind.”

Sherlock’s expression tightened at the last sentence, indicating that Sherlock thinks Mycroft is the most likely target. Even if he’s not, John doesn’t think terrorists who targeted the Whitehall and succeeded at doing it won’t know who Mycroft is. John saw enough evidences of Mycroft being the core of the British government, if not _the_ British government as Sherlock once claimed.

And if the terrorists’ target is someone inside… “Are they wanting to get their message across, or are they wanting something from the government, or are they trying to get something from someone in there?” If it is the first, they might kill everyone along themselves, and if it is the last, they won’t bother communicating with the headquarter. The second option is the best situation for them.

“Second or third. They are not on a suicide mission. They would have done it by now if it was. And the headquarter do have a connection with the terrorists. They are demanding something outrageous by the looks of it. It could of course be a rouse for them to stall while gathering information.” Sherlock answered without pause, and John wasn’t surprised. He must have observed all the clues by now.

After Sherlock’s explanation, which the nameless police officer listened attentively as well, John could see the Lieutenant General’s tight expression and sporadic communications with the terrorists.

They were waiting for about an hour, with John waiting as if he was back in the foxhole in Afghanistan and Sherlock observing everything around him and the Whitehall. Then, there were huge commotion traveling from the headquarter and to the soldiers, cops, and agents barricading in front of the Whitehall.

John instinctively knew they succeeded in acquiring part of the hostages. He hoped Mycroft was one of them, but he knew that’s realistically improbable. Please there be Anthea, at least. Sherlock seemed so sure that she would be essential for the success.

When John could see a figure emerging from the building, a soldier approached them. “Mr. Holmes? You are needed. Your companion is allowed with you as well.” With that, he turned to head back to the headquarter, not doubting the fact that Sherlock would follow.

Sherlock scowled momentarily at that, but didn’t say anything before following him. John, as he follows, was thankful that the Lieutenant General was thoughtful enough to include him at summoning. He was sure that he wouldn't have been allowed without expressed permission. The nameless policeman inclined his head at them and disappeared.

As they reached the headquarter, the escorted figure arrived as well.

At first, John almost couldn’t recognize Anthea with smudged makeups, disheveled hair, tear-streaked face, and hunched and trembling body. It was not what he is used to see from her. At all.

He was staring at Anthea with slightly opened mouth, but Sherlock didn’t hesitate to step towards her, calling “Anthea.” John did saw the soldiers escorting her gauging the situation to see if they should let Sherlock near them, and Anthea eyeing Sherlock with surprisingly firm stare as if to signal him. Sherlock halted.

Lieutenant General’s eyes sharpened more at that. “Ms.” She asked in a formal tone, making John think if the Lieutenant General doesn’t know Anthea even though she is familiar with Mycroft.

But then, Anthea pointed her thumb towards the ground with her fist clenched – a military hand signal of enemy seen or suspected –, while she was falsely making sobbing sounds and answering stutteringly, “Y… yes, ma’am…” She also pointed her ear and her cloth. The meaning was clear: there’s a bug from the terrorists.

The Lieutenant General nodded, and her face lost its coldness. Her tone was still businesslike, though. “Ms. I need to hear everything that happened inside. But you look like you need some fresh up, so I’ll let you take a short shower and place a female officer to dictate your statement. Is it okay?” There was a quarantine shower booth installed at the side in case of biochemical attack, and the Lieutenant General pointed there.

Anthea answered in a distressed tone. “Oh, I, I’m okay, m, ma’am. I don, don’t need…”

It was slightly disconcerting seeing the disparity between the trembling voice and cool expression.

The Lieutenant General cut her words. “Ms. You need to calm down. Take a shower, I insist.” Her tone didn’t brook another argument.

Anthea nodded her agreement with a slight smile. She just needs time to change her cloth to discard the bugs and wipe some distasteful secretion she needed to emit for the purpose.

Before she goes, she met Sherlock’s eyes for a moment and gave him several gestures. Then she took off.

The Lieutenant General and other personals stared at Sherlock for translation.

“There’s 16 alive hostages – 2 PAs, 9 High Council, and 5 politicians – and 7 terrorists. They are contained in the conference room they frequent during the meeting among the High Council. No royal families in there.” Sherlock explained.

John was surprised at that. He didn’t know Sherlock was familiar with Anthea to the point of sharing promised signs. Even considering the fact that Anthea is Mycroft’s PA, the signs told quite specific information for those to be bordering on a secret language. Or maybe it was Sherlock’s deductive power allowing him to translate same sign into different meanings according to the situation. But John has a feeling that it’s former in this case. He couldn’t tell why this time as well, but he has a gut feeling.

The information brought lively debate, and Anthea came back about 10 minutes later. She was clothed in a quarantine jumpsuit with her face free of any traces of makeup.

It was the first time John saw her without any makeup, and even though she was still gorgeous, John felt like she kind of reminds him of someone now. He couldn’t pinpoint who, so he shook off the feeling for mere coincidence. It’s not the time.

“Anthea.” The Lieutenant General called her by her name now that there’s no danger of being overheard.

“Lieutenant General Evans,” Anthea nodded back at her. “I believe Sherlock told the general situation?”

“Yes, now tell us more.” Lieutenant General ordered.

Anthea inclined her head. “The group got into the room right before the loud explosion. They killed six securities on the hallway before coming in. They killed four agents inside the conference room. Weapons and phones were collected right after the attack, and they knew the location of emergency alarm buttons hidden inside the room. They gathered all in the middle of the room, ordering them to stay down. Four went out, securing the escape route and observing the situation I presume, and three stayed for the hostage control. They have automatic weapons and I couldn’t understand how someone could miss those being smuggled in,” Anthea rolled her eyes, “but it was clear that at least half of the hostages could die if someone tries something and fails to kill them instantly.”

“Were they targeting someone inside or just using them as a hostage?” Sherlock asked impatiently. Lieutenant General shot him a gaze, but didn’t reprimand him or rescind his question.

Anthea rolled her eyes at Sherlock this time before continuing without responding right away. “Their faces were fully covered with mesh type masks, eyes and lip included, and they were covered from head to toe. They started to check faces after gathering people in the middle, but it was inconclusive as to whom they are looking for. It was clear that they _know_ about Mr. Holmes, though. They put tremendous efforts to hide information about them from him by covering up excessively. They are consisted of 3 Danish, 2 Irish, 1 Italian, and 1 French. They are professionals hired by money, and this is the first time they acted with the others. Otherwise, Mr. Holmes could have reduced the possibilities by combining previous terrorisms and physical traits. Right now there’s too many candidates who they might be. And yes, Sherlock, they are using terrorism as a ruse.” Anthea finished in exasperated tone.

John heard her report aptly, but he kept getting some nagging feeling at the back of his brain. He tried to figure out what it is, but it didn’t give him more than a slight feeling that it’s not crucial for the situation.

“What happened after?” The Lieutenant General asked with tight expression. John understands. With that purpose, more hostages are likely to die.

“They are pretending that this terrorism is not a smokescreen. Threatening the hostages and corresponding with you. Letting me go was them sticking to the ruse and attempting to gain more information. They are waiting for something, and I am quite sure about there being more bombs hidden in the building and an accomplice disguising as a hostage in there. After your negotiation, one came back in to take me out and then I’m here.” Anthea finished.

“And Mycroft’s still unable to decide what or who they are after?” Sherlock asked sharply.

John was slightly puzzled for a moment before remembering that there’s a way between Mycroft and Anthea to communicate.

Anthea tapped her thigh. “Three possible candidates. Sir Edwin, Lady Smallwood, and Mr. Williams.”

“No Mycroft?” Sherlock checked, and even though John understands that’s important to Sherlock, he’s a bit worried about Lieutenant General Evans or the others getting irked by Sherlock’s interference.

“No. They knew I am his PA, but they let me go. Mr. Holmes is not the target. But they knew he would be there, as I said.” Anthea confirmed.

John saw that the Lieutenant General’s mouth twitch slightly. Maybe it is a relief. Then, John thought, Mycroft and Lieutenant General Evans are more than just acquaintances.

“Why were _you_ there? You don’t normally follow inside.”

Anthea’s lips tightened with displeasure. “Yes, but a few PAs were requested for this meeting. Not directly, of course, and it’s not uncommon instances, but it might have been a ruse today.”

“Why is it not uncommon?” The Lieutenant General asked this time. It has to be checked, because it might have been a carefully planned routine for this.

Anthea knew what she was suspecting, and shook her head. “It’s not related to any ulterior motives. There’s some _men_ ,” Anthea’s face made a fake smile, “who want there to be pretty women near them on every excuses they could muster.”

John and Sherlock grimaced in disgust at the explanation. A cold expression flitted through the Lieutenant General’s face. Anthea shrugged slightly. Then they went back to the topic.

“So yours and Mycroft’s conclusion is that they are looking for a specific information?” Lieutenant General Evans asked.

Anthea nodded. “Yes. Why they didn’t start questioning is unclear, though.”

John agreed. About an hour and a half passed after the explosion. Even though they have escape route planned for much later, they should have started questioning by now. No one can tell how much it will take to extract information from someone. Unless they have a reason they couldn’t, corresponding with Anthea’s and Mycroft’s assessment of them waiting for something.

“Is there an information that Mycroft doesn’t know but the others know? I didn’t think there would be. At least something valuable enough for someone to do this.” Sherlock said while gesturing still smoking Whitehall. The fire was off by now, but that section is entirely demolished to stop smoking anytime soon.

Anthea tilted her head slightly. “Of course. We can’t put the whole eggs in one bag, can we? For various reasons, full disclosure is never allowed unless it’s Her Majesty.”

John doesn’t know what is happening to him today to have such gut feelings, but Anthea’s words suspiciously sound like that Mycroft of course couldn’t know every important information, but he does unofficially.

John glanced back and forth between Anthea and Sherlock to see if his gut feeling is right, and Anthea’s fake smile and Sherlock’s eye roll supported that theory some more. But obviously, it couldn’t be known even if it is true.

Just as he reached that thought, Anthea gave him Mycroft’s ‘Good choice, Dr. Watson’ smile. That brought back the previous nagging feeling. He didn’t notice it before because this is the first time he interacted more than a couple of words with Anthea, but Anthea’s mannerism strangely reminded him of Mycroft.

He shook his head after a moment. Maybe he is more stressed than he thought. And besides, they could have similar public front after working for god knows how long together.

“So those three you named have the information that is important enough but Mycroft doesn’t know about? And no information on the accomplice’s identity.” Lieutenant General Evans checked.

Anthea nodded. “Affirmative, ma’am.”

The Lieutenant General’s gaze turned calculating. “I am sure Mycroft will be able to figure out who with given time. Mr. Holmes told me you two can communicate without getting detected?”

Anthea nodded again, tapping the back of her right ear. “Yes, we can. Mr. Holmes can also relay the exact coordinates of the terrorists inside the room, but there’s no signs of the four who are not in the room right now. There wasn’t any location confirmation or progress report via radio. They planned everything beforehand.” Anthea’s voice became flat with her eyes becoming slightly unfocused, calculating and assessing every information she and Mycroft have.

The Lieutenant General nodded. “Is this the end of a report?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll let you know anything happens or Mr. Holmes relays additional information.” Anthea answered.

The Lieutenant General turned to the table showing Whitehall floor plan, discussing the possible course of actions for hostage extraction, blocking their escape, countermeasure for the terrorists’ outrageous and fake demand, etc.

Anthea casually stepped to the side where she could hear the plans being discussed while she could have a private conversation if she’s being careful. Sherlock and John followed as well.

She turned to face Sherlock and John, and even if she’s nothing like her usual appearance with orange jumpsuit, no makeup and flat sandal, John saw Anthea he usually encounters from the way she held herself.

“Condition?” Sherlock asked in a low tone as soon as they are slightly out of the way.

“Good.”

“Weapons?”

Anthea hummed instead of answering, tapping her right ring finger on her elbow. Sherlock nodded in understanding.

“Identity of the accomplice?”

“Inconclusive.”

“Target?”

“Inconclusive. Lady Smallwood seems less likely to be a target as time passes, though.”

John barely followed the rapid-fire exchanges between Sherlock and Anthea, but he had enough brain power left to be reminded that there’s a way for constant communication with Mycroft, and to notice that Sherlock’s inquiry was less businesslike or sharp than he expected. And he was curious if it’s Anthea or Mycroft answering Sherlock’s question now.

Sherlock hesitated for a second and asked the next question with clenched jaw. “Pills?”

Anthea’s face softened slightly. “No.” Tension left Sherlock’s body at the answer. “There’s 83% of surviving this attack, Sherlock, and only 3.2% of them taking Mr. Holmes with them for whatever purpose. You know the accuracy of his predictions.”

At Anthea’s assurance, John jolted with the realization that Sherlock asked whether Mycroft took a poisoned pill or not, like he saw on spy movies. It sent chills down his back by just imagining the situation.

“Plans?” Sherlock asked in a lighter tone than before, and John didn’t notice how tense Sherlock’s tone was.

“Lieutenant General Evans is a very capable officer well equipped to deal with the situation.”

“So you want me to believe that you didn’t think of any plans?” Sherlock snorted disbelievingly.

There was that gut feeling again. This was the first time John saw Sherlock interact with Anthea this long as well, and it reminded him of how Sherlock interacts with Mycroft.

Anthea gave Sherlock a tight-lipped smile and answered. “There’s windows on the room, which are meticulously covered, of course, but with Mr. Holmes giving coordinates,” John thought Anthea might have glanced at him while saying Mr. Holmes. “Snipers could take them down without visual. However, since we don’t know where the other four are and what they are doing, there’s a high risk of additional explosions. Lieutenant General Evans would have to find the other four and be ready to incapacitate them at the same time with sniper shots. Of course, the accomplice and their purpose must be found out first.”

“You have only one plan?” Sherlock’s eyebrows were just a little shy of touching his hairline. And he wasn’t even exaggerating, meaning he really didn’t thought that possible or probable.

Anthea rolled her eyes. “Of course there are other plans, Sherlock. But the other ones are too risky. That one is the safest course of future, even though I simplified the process quite a bit, and Lieutenant General most likely would take that route.”

Anthea’s response was full of exasperation, and John was constantly feeling some sort of deja-vu, with Mycroft’s voice and features overlapping those of Anthea’s. He tried to shake off the thought, causing Anthea to quirk an eyebrow at Sherlock after glancing at him. Sherlock shook his head and shrugged.

Anthea gave him a blatant once over, and John never felt this awkward getting a once over from beautiful woman. Or a few men, for that matter. Maybe because he is getting a feeling that he is dissected thoroughly, just like Sherlock observing a corpse during a particularly interesting case.

When he started to want to squirm despite of all the military trainings ingrained, Anthea tilted her head. “Sherlock didn’t tell you. Interesting.”

Sherlock frowned at that. “I never told anyone. What made you think I would this time?”

Anthea only slanted her eyes to meet Sherlock’s eyes briefly, still facing John. “You never had a friend to tell before.”

Sherlock huffed. “I do have some common sense, Anthea. I never told because it is not my secret to tell, not because I had nobody to tell.”

Anthea raised her eyebrows skeptically, but didn’t argue with him more.

John felt his eyebrows rising as well. Sherlock, having common sense? He snorted. Sherlock shot him a slightly betrayed and irritated glance at the snort. John raised placating hands with apologetic smile.

He turned to Anthea. “So are you planning to tell me what it is? Sherlock did say it is not his secret to tell, and I understand if you don’t want to tell me.”

“Even though you are curious.” Anthea quirked her eyebrow.

“Well,” John shrugged slightly. “Of course I am curious and I’ll admit it will cross my mind every time I see you or Mycroft for some time. But it’s not like you have any obligation to tell me, and everyone is entitled to have some secrets to themselves,” Sherlock emitted disagreeing noise. “Even though the Holmeses don’t respect that, apparently.” John added, glowering at Sherlock.

Anthea gave him an amused smile, and it didn’t look like it’s faked. “I’ll think about it, Dr. Watson. It’s not important right now, and it seems like the terrorists are finally ready to take some action.” At the last words, her smile turned feral.

John shivered slightly seeing the smile. Mycroft must have figured out something crucial for the situation. He didn’t know if he should feel sorry about the terrorists. Of course, he decided against it immediately, following feral looking Anthea and excited Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hardest part writing Sherlock fic is getting cultural norms or locations right :( I hope the situation is not that improbable (fingers crossed)


	2. Chapter 2

After the dust settles down, John and Greg received dinner invitation at Mycroft’s house.

When John and Sherlock climbed on the black car on the day, John was amazed at Sherlock not throwing any fit at going to meet Mycroft. He grumbled a little, but that’s like breathing when it comes to Sherlock.

The car stopped momentarily en route to pick up Greg.

“Greg,” John nodded pleasantly. He is slightly relieved at the fact that there’s going to be someone other than him who is not Holmes today.

Greg nodded back as he climbed in. “I heard that Sherlock said it wasn’t his place to say whatever he didn’t say?” Greg asked with a grin.

John’s face matched his amusement. “I know, right? Who would have believed that Sherlock Holmes has a common sense?”

John and Greg laughed while Sherlock snorted disgustedly at the thought of _common sense_.

“So, have you ever been to Mycroft’s?” Greg asked slightly nervously after the laughter died down. John was extremely relieved that he is not the only one.

“No, besides from kidnaps to inquire about Sherlock or him visiting 221B, I am not usually in touch with Mycroft.”

“For the best.” Sherlock muttered, but John and Greg ignored him expertly.

“And today has to do with whatever Sherlock didn’t say at the Whitehall? Are you sure we should hear that?” Greg obviously has some reservation at knowing something that is big enough for _Sherlock_ to hesitate at mentioning.

John couldn’t fault him. He himself was more paranoid with every CCTVs moving and black cars passing by after the day. Knowing that there _is_ a secret itself could be dangerous.

So John gave him a sympathetic nod. “But you accepted the invitation anyway, didn’t you? I would be lying if I don’t have any reservation, but I am curious and you guys well know that I am addicted to danger.” John shrugged.

Greg agreed with a nod, but before he could say anything, Sherlock interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “Oh, please. Mycroft wouldn’t have decided to tell you if he thought it might result in exposure. Well, he could have thought that the questioning gazes from you two would be more disastrous, but it’s not like you didn’t know how dangerous it is to cross Mycroft. So.”

Greg and John shot Sherlock an unbelievable gaze. They might have slightly touched at being essentially called reliable, but Sherlock more or less said that they were always in the brink of disappearing one day. And he didn’t seem to care an iota about the fact. When they are in that danger because of Sherlock, no less.

John and Greg’s eyes met briefly, and they shook their head in unison without saying anything to Sherlock. They were way pass scandalized by it, anyway.

The car stopped in front of the big house, which must be Mycroft’s, and they were let out by the driver.

John and Greg started to feel slightly awkward again at standing in front of Mycroft’s house, contrary to the petulant ease Sherlock is showing, but they were thoroughly distracted by the fact that it was Anthea who answered the door, not Mycroft.

“Hello, inspector, Dr. Watson.” And Anthea gave Sherlock a once over. “Running around the London again, Sherlock? There’s not much construction started in last month. Or changed traffic signs.” She rolled her eyes at him, before letting them in.

“I was checking homeless network as well. I was bored, and contrary to you, I don’t despise legwork.” Sherlock snarked back, following her in.

Greg and John were still not sure of the situation, but followed Anthea and Sherlock in automatically with confusion.

Anthea led them to the dining room, obvious because it was dinner invitation, and the plates were already set for them.

“Have a seat. Food is almost ready.” Anthea gestured politely before taking her seat.

Sherlock popped down on the chair farthest from Anthea, and John and Greg sat down awkwardly as well besides Sherlock. There were only two set of silverware laid out on Anthea’s side, and they assumed the other seat was for Mycroft.

Thankfully, without the need of small talk, Mycroft wheeled in their food.

And that is when the fact that it must have been Mycroft or Anthea that cooked instead of maid and Mycroft and Anthea are in casual clothes hit Greg and John. They assumed that there would be people doing this for Mycroft, and they just couldn’t imagine Mycroft out of his three-piece suit. And he is currently only wearing a trouser and a shirt, practically naked for Mycroft.

John and Greg were still gobsmacked at the turn of events, but Mycroft didn’t seem to mind as he only nodded at them and set the foods.

After Mycroft sat on his seat and picked up the silverware delicately, he started conversationally, “Help yourself, inspector, Dr. Watson. I am a pretty good cook, if I say so myself.”

Greg and John nodded absently and started eating, and it _was_ delicious. They had enough brain cell to complement the cook, even during watching Anthea and Mycroft interact.

No, not interacting. In fact, it’s more like knowing the other too well to not interact at all. Anthea handing over wine and opener at the same time Mycroft reaches for it, Mycroft passing the glass to Anthea without even looking, etc.

There were some small talks Mycroft initiated and Greg and John absentmindedly participated in, but their main focus was watching how those two act.

Finally, at the end of the dinner and after the desserts being distributed, John blurted out the thing that kept crossing his mind. “Are you two married?”

Everyone halted at the question. Greg seemed as he too wanted to ask the same question, Sherlock was scoffing, and Mycroft and Anthea was showing amusement.

“You know that’s what people usually think when they see you act like that.” Sherlock said in a scolding tone. “And I actually imagined it, my god, I need to bleach my brain.” Sherlock pressed his hand on his eyes, hard.

Mycroft and Anthea chuckled. “You know it’s amusing to me when people do that, brother mine.” Mycroft answered.

Greg and John glanced between the three. “So you… aren’t?” It was Greg, who asked this time.

“Well, my last name _is_ Holmes.” Anthea answered cheekily, fluttering her eyelashes at them.

Greg and John were the picture of confusion, but before they could tease them more, Sherlock interrupted.

“They’re twins.” Sherlock was still covering his eyes with his hand.

Mycroft tutted disappointingly. “Where’s the fun in telling, Sherlock. They would have figured it out on their own soon enough anyway.”

“And they would have come up with more horrible ideas before that. I don’t need that images.” Sherlock shot them a glare through his fingers.

Anthea shrugged.

Greg and John’s jaw was hitting the floor, however. _Twins!?_

They stared the two, who were similing patiently, and noticed that they do share some resemblance. And as John noticed during the terror, their mannerism is remarkably similar, come to think of it.

“O…kay. So, you are Anthea Holmes? Sherlock’s sister?” John asked, finally getting out of shock and still being curious about Anthea’s real name.

Anthea gave him a mischievous smile. “No, Anthea is one of my code name. But since our parents call me Anthea as well by now, you can think of it as my real name, if you want.”

“So… you two are twins. You work together and you live together, from the looks of it. Which part is the top of the top secret?” Greg asked delicately with careful stare, and it gave John another idea as well.

Sherlock scowled in disgust. “Really, Gale? Did you have to do that? I _really_ don’t need that image!” He complained loudly and pointed an accusatory finger at Mycroft and Anthea. “You! If you don’t explain in any minutes, I will tell them or I will be out of here _now_.”

Mycroft and Anthea merely chuckled, ignoring Sherlock’s outburst, but finally giving the confused two an explanation. “If you are asking about incest, well, I should ask if you consider yourself committing incest every time you masturbate?”

Greg and John were in the process of discarding the incest theory when Sherlock shuddered at the mere idea, but Mycroft’s words made them confused beyond words.

Mycroft tsked at their confused expression. “I have a penis, as you might have guessed, and if I use my right hand to masturbate, will that be an incest?”

Greg and John were taken aback at the turn of conversation – and the fact that _Mycroft_ is saying those things – but shook their head warily.

“Then no, I am not committing incest,” Mycroft smiled his usual fake smile at them telling this, and it was Mycroft and Anthea both who finished the sentence. _““Because we are one entity having two bodies.””_

It was creepy seeing Mycroft and Anthea saying exact same thing with exact same expression and posture. And John and Greg couldn’t comprehend what they just heard.

Mycroft and Anthea rolled their eyes simultaneously. _“”It’s not that difficult to understand, inspector, Dr. Watson. You have one mind with one body. There are people who has extra finger or even an extra arm or leg. I just happen to have two bodies.””_

“…I don’t think it could be dubbed as just.” John spoke dumbly as he started to understand what he is seeing at last.

Mycroft and Anthea tilted their head in unison. _“”I admit I couldn’t figure out how this is possible, but it is what it is, Dr. Watson. It just happened.””_

There were goose bumps spreading over Greg and John at seeing what they couldn’t understand and something they never thought possible.

Mycroft and Anthea only gave a fake smile at inspector and Dr. Watson’s horrifying gazes, but Sherlock interrupted again.

“Stop it, Mycroft. You are intentionally creeping them out.” Sherlock ordered.

Mycroft and Anthea raised an eyebrow at that, but shrugged and let their bodies do different things. Mycroft got up without a word to collect forgotten desserts and to retrieve drinks. Anthea leaned back slightly and gave them a smile.

“You must understand, this is a novelty to me as well, and I was a bit fascinated by your responses.” And she continued, seeing their surreptitious glance at retrieving Mycroft. “And you don’t have to mind that body. As I said, this and that body have one mind, and I could continue the conversation without problem. I just prefer to use Mycroft’s body doing heavy lifting. He’s male, as you know.” She quirked an eyebrow.

John and Greg were starting to regain their composure now that Mycroft and Anthea are not acting simultaneously, but it was still an unrealistic concept to wrap their minds.

Anthea cocked her head after a silence. “I thought you would have questions. Do you prefer Mycroft’s body to be here instead of Anthea’s? Is he more comfortable to you with the familiarity?”

“I don’t think that won’t change the situation,” Greg said somewhat calmly. Too much shock could make one calm. “Where is he now?”

Anthea quirked her eyebrow without an answer, and they saw Mycroft coming in with stiff drinks a few seconds later.

“I was retrieving drinks. You seemed like you might need it.” Mycroft was the one who answered the previously unanswered question.

John and Greg accepted the drinks gratefully, and gulped the half down in one go.

Sherlock was watching the scene with bored expression.

After several measured breath, John bravely looked up and stared at Mycroft and Anthea. “So… you are twin. But has one mind. And essentially one person.”

Anthea nodded. “Yes, Dr. Watson. You didn’t answer my question, though. Do you want Mycroft’s body to answer instead of Anthea’s? I was going to use one for washing the dishes, but if you’d rather prefer both, I can do that as well.” She quirked her eyebrow inquisitively. Greg and John noticed that they were not synchronizing their actions.

“I think both will force me to believe your claim.” Greg answered realistically.

Mycroft nodded at that and sat down on his seat again.

“You are remarkably good at piloting two bodies at once.” John asked the safest question first.

Mycroft gave him an amused glance over his drink. “You should know, Dr. Watson, that that’s equivalent with someone being fascinated by the fact that you could use both hands at once. Getting used to maneuver both bodies won’t be that different from learning how to use one body, I imagine.” Mycroft quirked his eyebrow slightly playfully.

It was Anthea who continued. “But yes, handling the sensory information from two sources and convincing people that we are two different entity may be slightly more challenging than having one body.” She shrugged contrary to her words, showing it wasn’t that difficult to them. “I had to manage which body has which acquaintances and relationships, but thankfully, I also got a useful brain for that as well.”

John’s first thought of hearing that was that it’s more than an understatement to call Mycroft’s brain as merely useful. He was a genius, more so than Sherlock, and that was with the handicap of maneuvering essentially two different lives. John couldn’t fathom the size of Mycroft’s brain.

“So you chose to work two bodies together to manage things easier?” Greg asked. Now that the shock and incredulity are fading, he got curious.

Mycroft hummed slightly. “Yes and no. As I said, I am one entity. Is it weird for me to have one goal and utilizing two bodies at once? I would have used the two individually if I wanted to do something different at the same time, but I’m not and I find it useful to use Anthea’s body as Mycroft’s PA. It is amusing how people underestimate the PA based on their position and attractiveness.” Mycroft’s smile was cold saying the last part.

“You might be surprised at the amount of useful information I gained by just seating at my desk or putting up with the flirting.” Anthea gave them a flirtatious smile, and even though John and Greg know it’s fake, it was enough to hold their gazes for a moment.

Then, they shuddered slightly at what would have happened to all the idiots who underestimated Anthea. Anthea, which is Mycroft, is the most intelligent person they met until now.

And John slightly paled as he remembered his attempts of flirtations in the past.

Mycroft of course followed the line of John’s thought, and chuckled. “You might be glad that I didn’t accept your advances, Dr. Watson.” He intentionally used Mycroft’s body to say that, and Dr. Watson blushed as expected.

John protested. “No, I was not thinking like that,” and he continued seeing Mycroft’s disbelieving quirk of eyebrow. “Well, I admit that it would have affected my decision to flirt or not with you. But I was thinking about what would have happened if you had found my flirtations annoying, and not about it would have been horrifying, or you have male body as well, or I might have not liked your personality, or-,“ John felt a nudge on his arm and he shut his mouth.

He smiled embarrassingly. “I was babbling, wasn’t I?”

Mycroft gave him an indifferent smile, but his eyes were amused. “Don’t worry, Dr. Watson. I understood perfectly. So you would have wanted to know about this fact so that you could have hit on me at the same time? Or wanting to watch how I masturbate?” His and her eyes were glinting with mirth as he ended his words.

It took several seconds to understand for Greg and John, but Sherlock understood immediately.

“MYCROFT!” He shouted with disgust. “I _really_ don’t need that image! I don’t want to know what you look naked or during the strenuous activity with either of your body!!” It was an old jibe, which Sherlock still couldn’t stand and Mycroft still found amusing to poke at.

Then, John and Greg understood what Mycroft meant. With Mycroft’s question about is using his right hand to masturbate considered as incest or Mycroft’s comparison of the two bodies as right and left hands, the meaning was clear. They blushed at the implication, but couldn’t help but shoot surreptitious glances at both of them.

So like they use their right hand to masturbate, Mycroft uses Anthea’s body to masturbate and vice versa. Sherlock seemed thoroughly disgusted by the idea, understandably, because to him it’ll like thinking his brother and sister in compromising position, but Greg and John couldn’t help but feel interested at the picture.

Mycroft and Anthea are both attractive, and they must be beyond well-coordinated if they have one mind. It must be way better than self-pellatio or anything normal people do.

Of course, Mycroft and Anthea sent a knowing glance as they blushed. John cleared his throat. “Okay, I think we understood the one entity part. So that’s how Anthea could relay the inside situation perfectly during the terrorism? And not some device?”

Anthea smirked at John’s attempt to change the topic, but let it happen. “Yes, but we do have a prototype communication device implanted as Sherlock claimed. I need a viable excuse for my communication between the two bodies to keep this secret. Device is actually a failure, however, so others think it only works on us due to our brain and blood relation.”

John and Greg nodded in understanding. Nobody will guess the real reason. It’s too absurd to even suspect it.

“We are the first ones who knows about you besides your family, am I right?” Greg asked, and Mycroft nodded. “Can I ask why?”

Mycroft quirked his eyebrow at him and gave him a fake smile. “Because I don’t think you would tell anyone and the incident made Sherlock to lie to you by omission. Furthermore, who would believe you?”

“Even if Sherlock told you the truth, you wouldn’t have believed it before seeing this with your own eyes. You wouldn’t have extended the courtesy of verifying the statement if it wasn’t Sherlock. Am I wrong?” Anthea tilted her head inquisitively.

John and Greg couldn’t refute that statement. They would seriously consider calling psychiatric hospital if someone claims to know one like Mycroft and Anthea.

“Oh, and there’s also little fact that you are interested in Anthea,” Anthea said while pointing John.

“And you are interested in Mycroft.” Mycroft continued while pointing Greg. They were both grinning mischievously.

_“”I thought it was time to clear the air.””_ And they both grinned as they finished at the same time.

John and Greg were more used to the concept by now not to be seriously creeped by the synchronicity, and they were too busy blushing at getting caught to mind that.

Mycroft and Anthea would have cackled evilly or giggled at the reaction if they were less composed.

Sherlock leaped to his feet at it. “I am going. I did not sign up to be subjected to this kind of torture, Mycroft. I need to bleach my eyeballs. And delete this whole conversation.” He declared, and stormed out without waiting for an answer.

Mycroft gave still blushed guests an amused smile. “There’s a car waiting for you outside. It was a delightful dinner, inspector, Dr. Watson. I believe me not following you to the front door will be more comfortable for you. Until next time.” And Anthea purposefully sent flirtatious smile to them.

They got beet red and hastily got up mumbling their goodbye as well. Thankfully, Sherlock didn’t departed on his own. Maybe Mycroft instructed the driver not to.

When Greg and John climbed into the back seat and felt the car moving, they stared at each other for a long moment, not knowing how to react with the event inspired during the dinner.

Then, they simultaneously broke into a laughter and shook their head, ignoring Sherlock's startled gaze. What a Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found out that I linked different story as an accident :(. I changed it now, if you want to check it. It's an absolute masterpiece!  
> I passed the solving terrorism part, because my muse wanted this scene more. I think I would treat the hostage scene more closely in another fic.  
> I hope you enjoyed it, kudos and comments are appreciated! <3


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